Amazing Grace
by albernes Maedchen
Summary: Snape keeps careful watch over Delilah Potter as she makes her way through seven years of Hogwarts education. He really hates that brat... or does he?
1. The First Year

**Amazing Grace**

**The First Year**

He couldn't believe it. Ten years after all that had happened, there was the little Potter child. He had been expecting her to at least resemble Lily somewhat, but no. Of course not. Why would Fate be that kind?

The girl had a mop of unruly jet-black hair that hung just past her shoulders and had her father's face… except for her eyes. She had Lily's eyes, which were luckily not covered by glasses like those that her father had always worn in school. She was nervous, normal for any incoming first-year, especially one who had not grown up with magical parents. A fleeting thought that allowed for a bit of pity before he squashed it forcefully. He would have no feelings for this child. This was James Potter's sole heir; the child was bound to be more like him anyway.

He watched the Sorting without interest until the little girl that would one day be the bane of his existence stumbled over to the stool holding the dirty old Sorting Hat. He noticed how stunted the girl was even more now that the Sorting Hat covered her entire face; only her little stub of a chin stuck out at the bottom.

The sallow-faced, crooked-nosed man looked down at his watch, wondering how long it would take. Forty-five seconds already…

Less than ten seconds later, the Hat declared her a Gryffindor, and an old pain returned to the man's unusually cold heart. In his mind, he could see his best friend getting sorted into that House as well. He knew he would never fit in with that House, so he went to the only place that that would be possible: Slytherin. He took her friendship for granted, he thought mournfully, and now he would have to watch her only child live through almost the exact same life she had… except that the child didn't have a friend who was a Slytherin. Not that he could tell, at least.

He shook his head slightly at the child's name: Delilah Odette Potter. He knew that Potter had chosen the girl's middle name, and he felt almost certain that Lily had picked out such a Muggle name, such a lovely name.

This dark, sinister man regarded her throughout most of the meal. She seemed upbeat and spunky, talking animatedly with her fellow housemates. She looked up at him once, and those eyes made his heart skip a beat; he kept his eyes off of her the rest of the night.

* * *

><p>He didn't see her again until their first Potions class together. At first, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, but no, they weren't. She was sitting in-between one of his Slytherins, Daphne Greengrass, and another Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom. Her hands had slipped behind her head with grace, an easy grin upon her face, as she spoke amicably with both of the students.<p>

He felt such a wave of anger and nostalgia as he remembered Potter being in that exact same position so often years before.

As always, he started class by calling roll, pausing at the girl's name, intending to knock her off her golden Gryffindor chariot.

"Miss Potter, our new celebrity," he remarked slowly with a sneer. She narrowed her eyes, unsure of what he was on about.

"Tell me, what is the difference between asphodel and monkshood?"

She shrugged.

"When I ask you a question, Miss Potter, I expect an answer," he said testily.

Her gaze flitted over to Miss Greengrass before replying, "I don't know."

Anger filled him at her blatant disrespect. "I don't know _what_?" he prompted.

She shot back snarkily, "I don't know what you don't know."

"Five points from Gryffindor, Miss Potter. You will address me by either Sir or Professor when responding to any question or making a request of me. Am I understood, Miss Potter?"

Anger blazed through her eyes at having points subtracted, "Perfectly… _sir_."

The rest of class went smoothly, but he noticed that the girl stayed tense throughout the entire class, positively bristling when he would sweep past.

* * *

><p>He had to admit; the child definitely had her mother's aptitude for Potions. It was unfortunate that she was so rebellious though. Lily never acted like that, no, that was definitely a Potter gene.<p>

As were the blatant disregard for the rules; she had been accepted onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team as their Seeker after showing off in Flying class.

He saw her broomstick arrive; he quickly made his way to McGonagall and demanded to know what the meaning of it was. She had smiled sweetly at him and asked if he was afraid of a challenge this year.

How dare she intentionally put the child at risk when she barely knew anything about the wizarding world, let alone Quidditch. He had brought this matter up with Dumbledore, but the old man had only smiled and let his eyes do that damned twinkling thing.

Determined to set this right, he called a meeting with his House's Quidditch captain, Marcus Flint. He alerted him to the fact that a certain first-year would be playing as Gryffindor's new Seeker, and Flint would make sure to put this player out of commission enough to where she would never want to touch another broomstick. Flint had grinned evilly and promised his professor that it was as good as done.

* * *

><p>Halloween was nothing special until damn Quirrell came running into the Great Hall at dinner, yelling about some troll. He knew immediately that it was some sort of ploy, though he didn't doubt the sincerity of it. He watched as the other teachers rushed to the dungeons and all the students took off for their dormitories. Wondering at the sense of Dumbledore sending his little snakes down to greet the troll, he cast a Disillusionment charm on himself and watched Quirrell get up, grin wildly, and leave the Great Hall.<p>

Walking quickly to keep up with that crazy Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, he thought about why Quirrell might be heading to the third floor corridor that was off-limits. Why did he need to be anywhere near the Stone?

Somehow he lost him, and while trying to find him again, he heard two very high-pitched screams. Against all of his better judgment, he full out ran to the source of the noise. He came to the door of a girls' bathroom from where the screams of terror were still coming.

He barged in, quickly accessing the scene: Granger and the Potter brat huddled together in a corner, trying to not get flattened by the enormous creature that was towering above them.

He drew his wand quickly, bringing the troll down in just two casts. The two girls were clinging to each other, tears streaming freely. _Well_, he thought sardonically, _at least she doesn't have her father's unnatural heroic streak. _He walked over to the two girls, noticed how much smaller Potter looked when compared to Granger. _How odd._

The other teachers arrived then, Minerva at the front.

"Miss Potter! Miss Granger! What are you doing here?" she exclaimed, worry and concern etched into her stern face.

The Potter brat stood, letting go of Granger carefully. She wiped her eyes meticulously before replying.

"Professor, Hermione was in here crying because some of the other kids were being mean to her. I came to apologize for them. We didn't know there was a – a – "

"A troll, Miss Potter," he said to her harshly. Perhaps too harshly, if that look Minerva gave him was any indication.

"Yes, that," she said, wiping her nose for any lingering bogies.

"Well, get on up to your dormitory then." Minerva watched them as they walked out of the girls' bathroom before saying, "The feast is being held in each individual common room, girls, so you can get something to eat."

He looked down at the troll, trying to rid his mind of the hurt expression he'd seen in Lily's eyes tonight. A hurt he had caused.

* * *

><p>The day of the Slytherin-Gryffindor match dawned bright and clear. He watched the girl fly around the upper part of the stadium, trying to stay out of the way. He smirked, knowing it was no good; he had seen the attack Flint had put together. However, his smirk disappeared when he noticed that that brat was no longer in control of her broom. She was gripping it tightly, unsure of what was happening.<p>

He saw Flint move in for the attack; seconds later, the girl was bucked from her broom, holding on by only one hand. The V-shaped Slytherin team hit their target then, causing her to go flying, screaming all the while. He didn't even think until she had slowed down right before hitting the ground, and he realized he had done that and slowly lowered his wand.

The next thing that happened riled him however. Somehow, on the brat's freefall towards the ground, she had caught the Snitch. _Of all the luck_, he thought angrily while sweeping out of the teachers' box back towards the dungeons, leaving the brat waving her arm around happily while her team surrounded her in joy.

* * *

><p>"Potter! What are you doing out at this time of night?"<p>

It was Christmas holidays already and little Miss Potter brat decided to have a nice midnight stroll through the castle.

She knew she'd been caught too; there was a look of fear in her eyes, but also… that lingering resentment. It was as if she knew something about him that she couldn't possibly know. It was in her eyes every time she looked at him, and he wasn't sure if it had to do with his current attitude and his handling of her, or if she had actually been on the receiving end of some of the legendary Potter Sight. At one time, they were very powerful Seers, but that had died out centuries ago, or perhaps it was just dormant.

He grabbed her arm and marched her straight down to his office. He pushed her down onto the rigid wooden chair he kept for the purpose of punishing students before deftly retrieving a quill and small scroll.

"Name: Delilah _Potter_," he spat. "Date: December 20th, 1991. Crime: wandering the corridors at night. Punishment," he paused thoughtfully, looking at her again.

She glared at him malevolently, a look he had most definitely seen on Lily Potter's face too often in those later years. He delved into her mind briefly, looking at what he could use against her before realizing he was seeing things he really didn't want to see.

_Delilah was running across a playground, chased by a gang of boys. They cornered her once they hit the streets in an alley. The boys were about the same age as her, but the things they said to her were far above any of their years._

"_Potter! I heard your mum used to lift her skirt for all the men! How about you do the same? It's all you're good for anyways!" They jeered at her, pushing her into the walls of the alley, occasionally slipping a hand up her too-large shirt or down her oversized pants._

_She was crying, wishing that someone would come to her rescue, but no one came. Eventually, she just curled up into a little ball, and the terrorizing boys left. She couldn't go home, but she had nowhere else to go. Her sobs became more ragged until she finally lost consciousness._

He withdrew, wanting to forget what he'd just witnessed. He looked into her eyes, her Lily-eyes, and saw tears; he remembered that those on the receiving end of _Legilimancy_ almost always recounted the memory along with the caster. He just hadn't expected that to come up.

"Punishment: a week's worth of detention with Filch."

* * *

><p>As time went by, he still couldn't manage to get that image of the Potter brat out of his head. Where were her guardians when this was going on, and wasn't one of those boys her cousin? He shook his head in disgust at what kind of family life Lily's child had had while growing up. He thought that he should perhaps check up on the situation, but he stopped himself; that was what Minerva and Albus were there for. They were responsible for the brat.<p>

Leaning his head against the wall behind his chair inside his overly-sparse office, he listened to the clock tick itself to a new year. He raised his eyes when it was on its last thirty seconds, recalling a very lovely memory from his fourth year…

_There was no shortage of champagne at this New Year's Party. He was spending it with Lily and her family. Petunia had disappeared as soon as he had arrived, complaining of a headache. Of course, he knew it was because of her deeply rooted hatred for him. Ever since that tree branch incident, he thought ruefully. It didn't matter; he was right where he wanted to be, right next to his green-eyed beauty of a best friend._

_She'd been drinking and would occasionally clutch at him to prevent ending up on the floor. She kept laughing it off, but then again, she was laughing at pretty much everything. Even he thought it was pretty funny._

"_Ten!" her parents called. Lily looked at him, smiling._

"_Nine!" She took a step closer._

"_Eight!" She wrapped her arms around his neck._

"_Seven!" She leaned close to his ear and whispered, "You're my very best friend."_

"_Five!" He considered this before leaning closer to her too._

"_Four!" "And you're mine too, Lily."_

"_Two!" She hugged him tightly; he felt horrible at being put in the friend category again._

"_One!" She pulled away slightly._

"_Happy New Year!" She gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. He felt pain gnawing at his chest; he knew it was just the alcohol that made her do that. She leaned against his chest and sighed contentedly, swaying slightly with the music that was blaring from the television._

The clock was now ten seconds past. Happy New Year, Severus.

* * *

><p>He so often found those two girls interacting together. The brat acted just like her mother most of the time, being friends with the friendless Muggleborn. Of course, there were many differences between these two girls' friendship and the friendship he shared with Lily. However, he couldn't deny, no matter how hard he tried, that there were similarities. The most obvious was how quick the brat was to defend her new friend, from Housemate and others alike.<p>

"Hey Bucktooth, why don't you go back to your Muggle parents? We don't want you here!"

He listened to the quiet jeers that were just barely echoing around the steamy Potions classroom. He definitely didn't miss the quiet hiss back:

"Why don't you go swim with the giant squid, Malfoy?"

He couldn't help the small smirk appear on his face as he remembered Lily saying almost that exact same thing to the brat's father once, long ago.

He had already noticed that she had a natural affinity for Potions just like her mother, and along with Granger, they were easily the best partners in his first-year Slytherin-Gryffindor class. He wondered vaguely how she was faring in her other classes.

The next Gryffindor-Hufflepuff Quidditch game was coming up soon. He was not attending as Slytherin was not playing, and he really couldn't care less about Quidditch. He was already planning on visiting Aberforth for some much-needed firewhisky.

"Severus?"

He looked up at Minerva, blinking slowly before saying, "Is there something you need, Minerva?"

She pursed her lips and started, "I know you know something about what's going on with Quirinus. What is it?"

He rubbed his temples gently, "It is my belief that he is after the Stone, but for what reason, I cannot tell."

"I thought as much as well, just wanted to know if you might have heard something." He inclined his head towards her as she swept out of his office, pausing at the door, "Also, a couple of students came forward today to tell me that they were certain that you were going to steal the Stone. I do not know how they know about the Stone, Severus, but perhaps this should give you some cause for concern."

He smirked slightly before replying, "And who were these students?"

"Delilah Potter and Hermione Granger." _Shit._

* * *

><p>He held onto her unconscious body, wondering why she had come tonight. He glanced over at the ashes that he was certain was Quirrell, and knew that the Dark Lord was still with them. <em>Not alive, but hovering between life and death.<em>

His eyes came back to rest on little brat Potter, but at this moment, he couldn't help but think how like Lily she was. Not physically, especially since he couldn't see her eyes, but this one weak moment; _Potter_ would never have allowed himself to be rendered unconscious. Not that Lily was weak, far from it in fact, but she was definitely able to be hurt.

He picked her up, noting with distaste that she couldn't have weighed more than 30 kilos. She felt like a ragdoll in his arms as he began to make his way out of the puzzled corridor.

He had already directed Miss Granger to the hospital wing, and though she appeared to want to disagree, his scowl made her think twice about talking back.

The little girl in his arms moaned lightly, her brow furrowed in pain. Her eyes even opened at some point, but he knew that she had no way to recognize what was happening; she was still unconscious, but it gave him a nice long look at her vivid, green eyes. Why were they so haunting?

He sat by her side until she began to come to – which was three days later. He couldn't afford for her to see him there. He'd made sure that no one was able to get past the curtain that covered her bed though he did hear many well-wishers bring little treats, placing them outside the curtain reverently.

Madam Pomfrey had bustled in several times a day, always shooting furtive glances at him as though trying to tell him to leave even though she would never ask that of him. She knew what he'd been through.

He saw her eyes flutter open, just as his were beginning to close from exhaustion, before he was dragging himself out of the hospital wing. She had seen him, but hopefully it would not be anywhere on her mind more than on the outskirts of her unconscious. He sent a quick Patronus to Dumbledore; he had wanted to speak with her before she was allowed visitors. He could only imagine how that conversation would go.

Once he got back to his quarters, he simply collapsed onto his large four-post bed, knowing that the elves would have food for him when he woke. What luck that his apprentice was already ready to take on most of his classes, even if that little twerp did have several more years before she could even think about teaching full-time.

* * *

><p>His favorite day of the year: final exams. It was always so interesting how many students he could scare badly enough that their own sweat would ruin their results. He positively snarled when little brat Potter came walking up with Granger and their <em>perfect <em>results. He could already tell; their Forgetfulness Potion was the perfect shade of pale yellow. Even young Draco had had difficulty and made his a bit too pale.

They swept out of the Potions classroom, pulling their messy hair out of rubber bands anxiously and, by the looks of how many books they had in their bags, heading off to the library where he knew they spent most of their time.

He didn't see her again that year, except at the End-of-the-Year Feast, but that hardly counted; she didn't look at him once.

As he watched the train pull out from the Hogsmeade station, his mind wandered to a sketchy little inn near the end of Knockturn Alley where he would spend that night holed up with some voluptuous wench who hadn't had enough talents to make something worthwhile of herself. He could already envision giving her dark, auburn hair... and eyes that had haunted him all year in one underfed first-year.


	2. The Second Year

**Amazing Grace**

**The Second Year**

He was not looking forward to this year already. Little brat _Potter_ had decided to miss the train. Her snowy owl had shown up at Hogwarts a couple of hours after the train had departed. Dumbledore dispatched McGonagall to go retrieve the child, and they were back no more than ten minutes later. He'd just been finishing up his lunch in the Great Hall when they walked in.

McGonagall instructed the brat towards the staff table. The girl approached awkwardly, sitting stiffly on her chair, several seats down from where he sat. He poked moodily at his remaining food while McGonagall ate and spoke with the girl about what happened. He narrowed his eyes at her story: _the barrier had simply closed itself off._ He wondered what happened to the rest of the students that would have arrived after the brat. And he wondered why the barrier had closed itself. As much as he hated the child, he knew she wasn't one to lie.

He swept away quickly, knowing that he had to investigate this strange occurrence. Firstly, what kind of magic could close the barrier? Naturally, it was closed for all but about three hours out of the year. Otherwise, some completely unsuspecting Muggle could happen across it. However, he was pretty sure that the only way to actually close the barrier was to know the correct code for it, of which only the engineer could open and lock the barrier. Not even dark magic could penetrate it; the magic surrounding the barrier was as old as the protections around Hogwarts.

Then that meant that it couldn't have been a wizard who did it. He scowled at the possibilities, but his logical brain quickly narrowed down the choices. It had to be either a goblin or a house-elf. They both had magic that worked along different planes as wizards, making it all too easy for any of them to affect the magic around the platform.

He moved quickly through the dungeons, intent on first obtaining a Calming Draught before going to do more research.

~{-}~

The Start-of-Term Feast went by smoothly. He watched the Potter brat as she chatted with Granger, occasionally stopping to take a bite of something. He noticed that the two of them paid careful attention to the first-year Gryffindors, making sure that they got to know all of them.

Their first class together, he could already feel the resentment pouring off of the brat as she glowered at him from the front of the room. He had separated her and Granger and partnered them up with someone else. Granger now sat with Miss Greengrass, and the brat sat right in front of him with that Weasley fool who had barely scraped by with an Acceptable last year. At least that was one dunderhead he wouldn't have to deal with in his NEWT class.

He smirked as the brat failed to catch the fool before he went to add a wrong ingredient for the third time now. She had been quite diligent so far, but this one time she just didn't catch him in time, and he congratulated himself internally as she let out a moan of despair.

He thoroughly enjoyed marking that D next to her name on his grade sheet.

The next day, he was making his way through the corridors when he suddenly heard shouting. Quickly, he made his way to investigate.

At the other end of the hall were several students; spells and hexes were flying.

"_Immobulus!_" he roared, waving his wand at the students. Anger radiated off of him as he took in the scene around him. The students were completely frozen besides their eyes, which had grown wide in fear at the sight of him. All had except for one pair of eyes, one pair of very green eyes.

This scene could almost be called an all-out war between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, except for the fact that a first-year Ravenclaw stood cowering behind his least favorite Gryffindors along with Miss Greengrass. On the opposing side were Ravenclaws, varying between first- and third-years.

He knew what was going on, but it wasn't his responsibility; it was Filius'. His Ravenclaws could be quite cruel at times, even worse than his Slytherins. His eyes traveled to the first-year huddled behind three second-years. _Ah, Xeno's child, that's why she's being cast out as a freak._

His eyes briefly met the brat's, and he wished that he hadn't as he was forced into her mind.

_There was a house-elf standing on her bed in her closet-like room. It told her about horrible things that would happen at Hogwarts this year, but everytime it got close to revealing something, it would begin beating itself with something. She tried to keep it quiet, casting fearful glances at the floor. Her fear increased as she heard the voices stop and thunderous footsteps up the stairs. She slung the house-elf into the wardrobe just in time to see the door fly open and a hand backhand her across the face._

_She crumpled to the floor, sobs emerging as soon as she could catch her breath, her hand lifting to meet her bruised cheek to find a line of blood escaping from her skin._

They closed their eyes simultaneously, both trying to escape the images flooding their minds.

"Detention, Misses Potter, Granger, Greengrass, Lovegood, Fawcett, Chang, Edgecombe, Brocklehurst, Li, McDougal, Everhart, and Jamison with me for one week."

He certainly couldn't take off points since Miss Greengrass was in his own House, but he could barely contain his anger. He released the young chits from his freezing spell and waited for them to disperse before leaving so that he could make sure that their war wouldn't break out again.

The Ravenclaws scampered off instantly, alerting him even further to their guilt, while the brat, Granger, and Miss Greengrass escorted Xeno's daughter along the corridor at a much slower pace.

He just barely caught the brat say, "Don't worry, Luna, we'll get your books back. Even if it costs us even more detention." _Damn brat._

~{-}~

He looked over Filch's disgusting feline companion without a modicum of feeling. It was basically a rock with fur, and he was actually more concerned about the well-being of the quartet that was currently on Filch's most hated list. Wait, did he seriously just think that? Well, at least Miss Greengrass was a Slytherin.

He pondered whether this event was in any way related to the Malfoys' house-elf. It hadn't taken him long to realize that the house-elf in the brat's memory belonged to the pureblood family because of the amount of time he had spent over at the manor.

He turned his eyes to the four girls who were staring with apprehension at the mangy feline. The brat looked particularly shaken up, but he couldn't imagine why. She was adamantly refusing to meet his eyes, but that was really nothing new. But it was something about the way that she was doing it; he could see that she was hiding something.

~{-}~

The Chamber of Secrets and Dobby the house-elf had some sort of connection; he knew it. But what was it? All he knew about the Chamber of Secrets was that it had been opened when his mother was a second-year, several students had been turned to stone, and eventually a girl died: a certain Myrtle Daggy.

_Voldemort._

He racked his brains, trying to remember something his neglectful mother might have mentioned from her school days. It was fruitless; he hadn't done a whole lot of listening back then, just a lot of running away.

He checked out the library's yearbook from that year, and came upon a relatively familiar face from a group of fifth-year Slytherin boys. _TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE._ He wrote the name down a spare piece of paper and wrote _LORD VOLDEMORT_ underneath it. He drew lines between each name and ended up with an A, an I, and an M. Annoyed, he penciled them in before the _Lord Voldemort _part:

_TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE_

_I AM LORD VOLDEMORT_

He snorted. Leave it to the Dark Lord to make up something as simple as an anagram to conceal his true identity. But... Riddle wasn't a wizard name. It was a Muggle surname. He slumped over in the seat he was in; this couldn't be. The Dark Lord, who was so completely against the idea of mixing Muggles and magical, was not even a pureblood. His father had to have been a Muggle, and it was questionable as to who his mother was.

~{-}~

He watched his Slytherin team on their brand new Nimbus 2001s as they flew circles around the Gryffindor team. However, he did notice that something was definitely wrong with that Bludger; it was as close to the brat as it could be without hitting her, and she was flying furiously to keep it away from herself.

Draco was so busy laughing at the brat to notice that the Snitch was flying around his very head.

But of course the brat _had _noticed. She darted at Draco like an arrow, bringing the Bludger with her. Her fingers closed around the Snitch just as the Bludger snapped her outstretched arm like a twig and continued on to hit and dislocate Draco's shoulder. Snape winced as he heard both of their cries in pain; he wasn't sure which voice had caused him to do that.

While the Beaters from both teams attempted to wrangle with the Bludger, all the other members of the team helped their respective Seekers onto the ground and into safety. However, they would never make it there, thanks to a certain inadequate teacher who quickly rid the brat's arm of every bone it had contained. Lucky for Draco, his Head of House managed to make it down there to stop Lockhart just in time from probably completely removing his entire left arm.

He had the Seekers' respective teammates take them to the Hospital Wing, glaring daggers at that fool, Lockhart, until he had the good sense to leave.

~{-}~

Loud knocks awoke him from his slumber. It was one of his nights off, so he was quite annoyed that he was being woken at this ungodly hour. He pulled open his door in ire, coming face-to-face with Professor McGonagall.

"Can I help you, Professor?" Her face seemed to crumple a bit. He knew something had happened. "What happened?"

"One of my Gryffindors was attacked tonight. Albus confirmed that the Chamber has in fact been opened," she said in a wavering voice.

He blinked uncomprehendingly for a moment. Then he said, "I'm so sorry, Minerva." He reached out a hand to grasp her shoulder slightly. "Would you like to come in?" She nodded and let him wave her inside. He set a kettle of tea to boil while she sat by the fire.

"It was Colin Creevey, one of my first-years," she said, looking into the fire, still stunned, "He was going to visit Miss Potter in the Hospital Wing, and..." she trailed off.

_Of course the brat was in some way involved_, he thought wearily. The girl always seemed to attract the worst kinds of trouble, both directly and indirectly, and others were usually hurt in the crossfire.

"Who would want to do this, Severus?" she asked, eyes pleading for answers. He stared at her for a moment before sighing and looking away.

"I do not know the answer to that question, Minerva, but believe me, I will find out." As the attacker was thought to be the Heir of Slytherin, the best place to start looking was his own House, so he was in the best position to find out who was opening the Chamber.

~{-}~

He stood staring at that dim-witted Lockhart who dared to both start up a _Dueling Club_ of all things and then to also ask him, Snape, if he would assist him in the demonstration. He couldn't imagine this going any way other than Lockhart ending up flat on his ass. Or perhaps his back or face.

He just happened to look over at the brat; she was staring at him, and he thought that was probably the reason why his eyes had been drawn over there. He winced internally at the baleful glare she had fixed on him.

He waited just long enough for Lockhart to finish giving all those dunderheads those idiotic instructions (no one had dueled like that since the 1700s) before blasting him off his feet and proving that he really knew nothing about dueling. Though, the gasps that rang throughout the Great Hall did do a great deal to improve his ever-foul mood.

Snape watched warily as Lockhart began partnering up the students, and so he proceeded to help him by starting at a spot where he knew he would come upon the brat before Lockhart did. She, Greengrass, Granger, and Lovegood were all together.

"Time to split up the Dream Team, I believe," he said sneeringly. The brat just glared at him defiantly. She glared an awful lot, he noted disdainfully. He partnered Greengrass with a third-year Ravenclaw, Granger with a fourth-year Slytherin, Lovegood with another first-year Ravenclaw, and pulled Parkinson aside and put her in front of the brat. They glowered at each other, but he ignored it.

When Lockhart mentioned having a pair come up and demonstrate for the rest of the students (as if he and the buffoon hadn't already done that), Snape picked the brat and his prized Slytherin to be the example. He knew that Lockhart would completely agree since he had that fame-based, unhealthy obsession with the brat.

He watched as Lockhart tried to show the brat how to do some ridiculous wand movement that would never work even if he had managed not to drop his wand and leaned close to Parkinson's ear to whisper something that would surely terrify the brat, at the very least.

Intense satisfaction at seeing the brat's shocked face was quickly replaced with uncertain dread as she began speaking in Parseltongue to the snake that had come out of Parkinson's wand. He hurried forward to get rid of his mistake, but the damage was done. How was she a Parseltongue, and even more, what else didn't he know about her?

~{-}~

He didn't actually suspect anyone in his second-year Slytherin-Gryffindor class of arson until he actually found the remnants of a firework in one of his Slytherins' cauldrons. He knew it had to be a Gryffindor because Slytherins generally wouldn't deliberately try to hurt another Slytherin, and he didn't want to believe it was the brat, but there was definitely something about her demeanor that screamed out her guilt.

He decided against using Legilimency on her, seeing as what had happened the past couple of times. Therefore, he really had no way of proving it had been her, and he watched with trepidation as she walked out of his classroom with Granger and Greengrass. He had no way of knowing what they could be planning or why they had to destroy what could have been a perfectly fine way to end a Friday.

~{-}~

Snape paced restlessly in his office. He knew there was something that he was missing. Another student and a school ghost had been attacked. What could possibly attack something that was already dead? He leaned over a piece of parchment on his desk and made a list:

1.) The Heir of Slytherin: What was Slytherin known for? Hating Muggleborns and speaking to snakes.

2.) Petrified students: What has the ability to petrify? Why haven't the rest of us seen anything?

3.) Dobby, the house-elf: How did the Malfoy elf know that terrible things would happen this year? Does Lucius have something to do with this?

He sighed and sat down in his chair heavily. Then he had a sudden surge of brilliance. He headed out into the corridor swiftly, making his way towards the headmaster's office. After passing those hideous gargoyles, he rapped sharply on the door to the office.

A weary "Come in" was heard, and he entered.

"Ah Severus, what can I do for you tonight?" Dumbledore asked. Snape noticed the slight darkness under the headmaster's eyes and knew that the attacks had been troubling him even more than himself.

"Headmaster, I need to know what you know. About the Chamber, I mean. It's real, isn't it? What else are you hiding?" he responded quickly, hoping that he wouldn't be interrupted.

Dumbledore gazed at him piercingly for a moment before saying, "You may want to sit down for this."

Snape didn't remember the walk back to his office; his head was spinning with so much new information, and he found that it was beginning to be difficult to breathe.

The Dark Lord was the heir of Slytherin and a half-blood who attacked fellow students while at Hogwarts; he shouldn't really find it so surprising, but the strangest part was that he hadn't really even thought about the Dark Lord as a student. Tom Riddle. Snape had to know more about him.

~{-}~

"I still think that little brat is guilty," Filch grumbled, "An absolute menace."

He had just gotten finished telling Snape about the Hufflepuff and the Gryffindor ghost that had been attacked, how the brat had found them. No, Snape knew she wasn't behind the attacks, just rather unfortunate in her timing.

He hadn't yet had the chance to begin research on Tom Riddle, but he certainly was going to start as soon as all these dunderheads left for winter holidays. He seriously needed some time away from the incessant demands of his students, so he was very fortunate to have the holidays coming up so soon. He could also continue some of his more delicate potions–

"Wish Dumbledore would allow corporeal punishment again. Bet that brat wouldn't make any more trouble after that," Filch muttered, pulling Snape from his thoughts.

"Yes, well Dumbledore is the headmaster for a reason, I'm sure," Snape replied delicately, wanting nothing than to end the conversation as soon as possible.

~{-}~

He was in the middle of making a Blood-Clotting Potion, which has to be made incredibly fast to avoid overcooking it, when he felt his wards on Slytherin House being disturbed by a non-Slytherin. He made a split second decision to go check on his snakes, who were staying over break, and quickly vanished the contents of his cauldron, scowling all the while.

The common room was nearly empty, but he took in automatically that Draco was sprawled out luxuriously on one of the black leather sofas, Pansy Parkinson simpering next to him. Millicent Bulstrode was sitting on another sofa, talking to them quietly, while Daphne Greengrass, surprisingly, sat at a nearby table working on homework. She usually worked with Granger and the brat in the library. Or, at least she was pretending to work on homework; her eyes kept flitting over to the three on the sofas, and Snape became very aware that only four of his second-year Slytherins had stayed over the holidays, and three of them were male.

"Miss Parkinson, Miss Bulstrode, Miss Greengrass, might I have a word with you in my office?" He noticed that neither of the imposters seemed particularly bothered by this, but Greengrass had taken on a look of apprehension.

"Of course, Professor," Miss Parkinson said coyly. They all stood and followed him out of the common room.

Once in the corridor, fake Parkinson spoke up, "Professor, before we go to your office, would it be possible for us to use the little girls' room. I was really enjoying spending time with Draco, and I didn't realize how much I had to go, and I'd prefer not to go alone."

He stared at her intently, fairly certain he knew exactly who this really was, but he didn't see the harm of allowing her to go to the toilet. In the dungeons, there were no windows they could sneak out of, and he knew there was no passageway to escape through in this particular toilet.

"Of course, Miss Parkinson," he said politely, leading them to the toilet. He watched on with a touch of apprehension when fake Parkinson propped the door open.

"Just so you can make sure we don't disappear," she said, with a knowing look in her eyes before turning the corner inside of the toilet.

He waited three minutes before, not hearing any noises at all from the toilet, walking over to the door and looking inside. He saw no one and did a quick _homenum revelio_. Cursing, he stalked back to his office in anger.

~{-}~

Over the first few weeks of the new semester, Snape made sure to punish those students, even if he couldn't prove it was them, by smothering them with mountains of homework. He did notice that Granger disappeared for several weeks; he had heard several different stories about what had happened to her, but the most prominent two was that she had been petrified, which he knew hadn't happened, and that she had been cursed and no one was allowed to see her, which he thought was entirely probably, considering how distinctly annoying she was.

Easter Break came up soon enough, and he had to sit down with all of his second-year, fourth-year, and sixth-year Slytherins.

As usual, he encouraged many of his students to take Care for Magical Creatures because Professor Kettleburn was always an easy O for his... less academically-suited students. He made sure none of them took that fraud Trelawney's class, and he managed to stop all but one from taking Muggle Studies (damn Nott). His more intelligent students then split between taking Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, while his not intelligent students (like Crabbe and Goyle) took on extra Flying classes.

In these ever so monotonous moments, he was able to continue thinking about the mystery surrounding this year. Voldemort, or Tom Riddle, was the Heir of Slytherin. Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater, so it would only make since that his house-elf would know about some of his dealings, but there was still one thing missing, one last piece of the puzzle; but why were they connected now? He also hadn't figured out which kind of monster was in the Chamber.

It was the day of the Gryffindork-Puff Puff game that Hogwarts was shaken up again. He was sitting sullenly in his office, trying to decide whether or not he wanted to begin grading when a Patronus, a tabby cat, appeared in front of him.

It spoke in Minerva's voice, "Severus, there's been another attack. Gryffindor Granger and Ravenclaw Clearwater. I'm cancelling the match and sending the students to the dormitories. Let them know as much as they need to know." It disappeared.

_Just perfect_.

~{-}~

His Slytherins watched dispassionately as he related what had happened, all except one. Greengrass let out a soft sob and ran down to her dormitory, no doubt to cry for hours.

The new safety policies set in place drove him almost over the brink. He had to put a barrier spell on the Slytherin common room between 7 PM and 7 AM to prevent anyone from entering or leaving, and he had to call roll at 7 every evening to make sure that every Slytherin was within Slytherin House. It was also tedious having to walk all of his classes to their next class.

Every other night, Minerva came to his quarters, crying about how she was certain that Hogwarts was going to be shut down. He would make her tea and, after the first couple of times this happened, also served her biscuits or cookies that he had the house-elves prepare beforehand.

The two had been close for years, bitter rivals as far as quidditch went, but she had been the only other person he had ever confided in besides Dumbledore, and he knew that Minerva would never use that information in the same way that Dumbledore had on so many occasions. He thought he knew why she would be coming tonight; that Granger girl had been petrified earlier that day.

"Hagrid's been taken to Azkaban," she said in an upset, weary voice. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying, but he couldn't imagine that the fate of that great oaf had her so unsettled. "And Lucius Malfoy had Albus suspended from the school!"

He was stunned. Dumbledore was no longer here? Instantly, his thoughts drifted to the brat. He wasn't sure why, but he had a feeling something would happen to her... or because of her.

"Minerva, this may sound strange, but... I need you to put a tracker spell on the Potter child. I have a feeling that she's in danger."

Minerva glanced up at him from behind a tissue she'd been sniffling into, "Why would you think that?"

"Just a feeling. Please, if you don't, I will, and I'd prefer for her not to know that I would ever cast magic on her."

Minerva nodded slowly, "I understand, but it's a complete disregard of our privacy policies, Severus."

"Fine," he said, ending their visit abruptly by declaring fatigue. He knew she was right, but he didn't have to like it.

~{-}~

That night, he was patrolling the halls, and as he passed by that idiot Lockhart's office, he heard distinct sounds of copulation. Blending into the shadows, he waited until a rather unintelligent Hufflepuff stumbled out of the office. She was walking bowlegged, and he assumed that she was simply trying to pass Lockhart's class. He recognized her as a sixth-year that hadn't made it into his NEWTs class. Unfortunately, she was already of age, so what Lockhart was doing was only morally wrong, not actually against the law.

Strolling into Lockhart's office, he slammed the door loudly so as to automatically have Lockhart's attention.

"Ah Professor Snape, how are you this pleasant evening?"

"Less fortunate than you, I'm afraid," he replied with a curl to his lip. He strode closer to Lockhart, smelling the scent of sex on him, "If I _ever_ catch another student walking out of here, having done the same thing as that student," he paused, calming his fury, "I will kill you."

Shoving him backward, Snape stalked from the room, leaving a stunned Lockhart behind.

He slept uneasily that night, sensing something looming close by. For two weeks, nothing happened. No one was petrified, attacked, or killed. Things would have been quite normal, if Dumbledore and Hagrid had been there, and if there hadn't been a half dozen rock-hard children in the hospital wing.

It was late when he heard a voice calling him from his fireplace. Pulling a robe around himself, he went to meet Madame Pomfrey, who asked him to bring several antidotes as quickly as possible.

He Flooed into the Hospital Wing after grabbing a few strong antidotes as well as some bezoars.

He was barely surprised to see Greengrass, Lovegood, and the brat there; he had told Minerva something was going to happen. However, he set about his work immediately. Lovegood looked the worst off; she was turning blue, which led him to believe whatever had happened was keeping her from getting oxygen, even though she was breathing. Shoving a bezoar into her mouth until her could figure out what was wrong with her, he felt better as she began to regain a natural color. Greengrass was covered in all kinds of scratches, which were starting to ooze green pus. He selected a bottle of thick black goo and told Madame Pomfrey to begin applying it to every cut.

It was strange though, when he began to examine the brat. She had neither cuts nor anaphylaxis. In fact, if he hadn't known better, he would have said she was sleeping. But he did know better. She was suffering from intense magical exertion.

"Who brought these students in?" he asked tersely to Madame Pomfrey.

"The centaurs. Firenze and a female I didn't recognize," she responded competently.

"So," he started slowly, looking at the student of his own House, "What were you three doing in the Forbidden Forest?" She looked into his eyes blankly as he silently cursed; he should have known the Greengrass family would put protection on their children's minds.

He looked over to Lovegood, but she was looking down. Annoyed, he pulled his wand out and waved it over the still unconscious brat. He didn't really want to do this, seeing as how the last few times had turned out, but he really saw no other way. He delved lightly into her mind at first, feeling only emotions of fear and pain, before going deeper and sorting through a few memories. After touching upon more than a couple, one was suddenly shoved into his mind, and he realized belatedly that her mind had a natural tendency to Occlude if it felt that it was being invaded.

_Lily was standing right in front of him. Just like she was still alive. But she was holding a baby, Potter's brat. There was fear written across her face, but there was also determination. He gasped as he saw Voldemort ascending the stairs to the nursery._

_Not this memory, not this memory... _he begged to whatever being was keeping him there.

_He watched, unable to close his eyes, as Voldemort murdered the only person he had ever truly loved._

Suddenly, he was shoved out of her mind and he stared into her now-open eyes, Lily's eyes, until they closed again as she fell into a fitful slumber.

~{-}~

It was less than a week later when another message appeared painted on the wall. A quick head count by the deputy headmistress, and it was discovered that little pureblood Ginny Weasley was missing and, according to the message, was down inside the not-so-mythical Chamber of Secrets.

He was addressing his Slytherins, telling them Hogwarts would be closing, when he noticed that Daphne Greengrass wasn't in the room. She wasn't easy to miss, with bright platinum hair and skin as pale as a ghost, especially in the darkness of the dungeons.

After leaving his prefects in charge to make sure no one left the dormitory, he charged through the halls to the headmaster's office.

"Lemon drop!"

Inside, he was met with the sight of the two parent Weasleys, looking much worse for wear than the last time he had seen them. Not that he could blame them so much; their daughter had just been discovered dead after all, not that he cared for any of these snotty little children anyhow.

"Yes, Severus?" the Headmaster asked solemnly, looking at the Weasleys pointedly.

He cleared his throat and said, "One of my students has disappeared, Headmaster. I request another check on the students be done to make certain that no one else is missing."

Dumbledore knew he was referring to the brat. He nodded and summoned Fawkes immediately. However, Fawkes didn't appear. A crease appeared on the old man's forehead as the twinkle in his eyes dimmed. Thinking for a moment, he suddenly smiled a small smile.

"Everything will be just fine, Severus."

And he was right. Just under an hour later, three young girls, Greengrass and Weasley covered in grime while the brat also had some blood on her, came stumbling into the Headmaster's office.

Another remarkable tale later, and Severus was once again in his office, shooting back shots of Firewhiskey. His nerves were shot from all of the excitement of the day. The End-of-the-Year feast had been interesting; almost everyone (except his Slytherins) were wearing their pajamas, and the victims of the basilisk, as well as Hagrid, made their way into the Great Hall as Madam Pomfrey revived them steadily.

But now, he sat in his office alone; he had half-expected Minerva to come visit, but it was already four in the morning, so he doubted she would now. Sighing, he knocked back a fifth shot of Firewhiskey and stood, slightly off-balance.

As he collapsed into bed and started the quick transition into passing out, he desperately hoped that next year wouldn't be nearly as draining on him as these past two had been.


End file.
